


Oneshot requests.

by cutenewt



Category: Criminal Minds, Supernatural, The Walking Dead
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:04:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutenewt/pseuds/cutenewt
Summary: A more personal oneshots book, written for specific people.





	1. Chapter 1

Request here! I may not write them straight away, but I'll get to you eventually.


	2. Comfort.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oneshot for Elizabeth.

 

 

____

 

_**9.30p.m.** _

 

You let all of your weight fall onto the mattress below, exhaling heavily. The aching pains in your limbs seem to lessen a little, and you let your eyes close. A timid knock at the door is a distraction from the slumber that you crave. Opening one eye, you call out. "Come in," but it falls from your mouth much weaker than planned.

 

The door creaks open, and Sam pokes his head around the door. "How're you feeling?" The lopsided grin upon his face makes it almost impossible to rudely tell him to leave you alone.

 

"Alright," you've never been a great liar. "You?" Returning the question as politely as possible, you frown when the youngest Winchester laughs.

 

"You don't look _'alright'_..." he uses air quotes, and you roll your eyes.

 

"Shut up, Sammy," you mumble, knowing that he's rolling his eyes at the nickname.

 

He then steps inside of the room, and gently pushes the door closed. "I've actually come to cheer you up. The library in here has some good material!" The guy grins, waving a large book in one hand.

 

At first, you're confused... but, then you remember opening up to Sam that one drunken night. You'd both talked about childhood memories, and you vaguely recall telling Sam about your favourite fairytale as a little kid. A blush forms over your cheeks, and you hide behind a pillow. Sam's laugh echoes around the room, which only heats you up even more.

 

"You're kidding, right?" You attempt at sitting up, but the pain travels all over your injuries.

 

He reaches out to help you, but you flinch away. As you rest against the many pillows behind you, Sam pulls up a chair beside your bed. He sits on it back to front – a habit of his that you and Dean always tease him for – and, opens the book. His eyes scan the index, using his finger to trace along the words. "Got it!" He mutters to himself, and then starts to leaf through the paper until he gets to the correct place.

 

Sam dramatically clears his throat, and you laugh. "Once upon a time..." he begins, the smile on his face too cute _not_ to be contagious.

 

As he continues to read, you feel your eyelids growing heavy. Every so often he'll stop to make sure you're alright, ask if you need anything, or double check that you're not in too much pain. Sam nears the end of the book at a slow pace, but by now you can barely even keep your eyes open. "... and, they all lived happily ever after." His voice is soft, washing over you like a warm, fluffy blanket.

 

"Sleep well, Elizabeth. Call on me if you need anything." He whispers, closing the book with a rather satisfying thud.

 

Sam quietly gets up from the chair, and lifts it back to where it originally stood. He tiptoes back over to where you're lying with your eyes closed, almost fast asleep... and, places a small kiss against your forehead. You feel yourself smiling, but don't know whether or not he notices. The last sound you hear before falling into dreamworld is Sam closing the door, and his footsteps trailing away from your bedroom.

 

____

 

**_I hope that this was okay! Xx_ **

 


	3. Jealousy is a bitch.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oneshot for Olivia.

 

 

____

 

**_A Roadhouse in the middle of nowehere,_ **

**_11.30p.m._ **

 

You slide the empty glass back across the chipped wooden surface, until it reaches the bartender. "Another, please." Your smile shows how tipsy you're becoming, but the bartender seems to be unphased. They probably see much worse on a daily basis.

 

As you're awaiting your next glass of alcohol, you turn to check on your boyfriend. He's still concentrating on a game of pool, swigging on his beer bottle every now and then, or cursing because he makes a bad shot. The clunk of the glass hitting the surface behind you causes you to turn back, but then you realise it isn't your new drink... someone else has taken a seat beside you.

 

"Hey, sweetheart." His smile is lopsided, and you turn more to get a closer look. He isn't bad looking – probably some son of one of the hillbillies that occupy this bar.

 

"Hi," you return a small smile, and then pick up your drink that's been given back to you.

 

He blinks his dark, brown eyes. "Come here before?" The guy carries on conversation, and you laugh.

 

"That your best line, huh?" You take a sip of the bitter liquid that occupies the small glass inbetween your fingers.

 

A smirk settles upon his face, as he scoots a little closer. "We don't get many new faces around here... it's just me and my Dad at our farm. Gets a little lonely, ya know?" A tiny sigh falls from his mouth, and some part of you – maybe the drunk part – starts to feel a little sorry for the guy.

 

But, before you can utter a reply, someone shoves their body mass into the minuscule gap between the both of you. "Same again," they wave their empty bottle up into the air, and then turn to face you.

 

"Dean," you roll yout eyes, knowing exactly what he's playing at.

 

"Liv," he mocks, licking his lips before a smirk appears.

 

You turn away, finishing off your beverage in one, long gulp. Dean gets another beer pushed his way, and then he goes back over to the pool table. "What a jerk," the guy beside you huffs, chugging his own dark, brown bottle.

 

"He's alright, once you get to know him." Your mind speaks before properly thinking.

 

The sensation of the body heat beside you grows stronger, as the stranger moves even closer once again. "I'm Harry, by the way." He slides his hand closer towards yours, so that you can shake.

 

"Olivia," you greet him back, and he grins.

 

"Nice to –" Harry is abruptly cut short, as two pair of hands grip his jacket and pull him off of his barstool.

 

"Dean!" You stand up too, trying to get him to back down. "It's alright, he didn't do anything!" You yell, and finally your boyfriend drops the guy back down to the floor.

 

His eyes carry a look of bitter anger, as he stares down the lone stranger who'd tried to get to know his girlfriend. Dean glances back at you, but you can't make eye contact. He senses your disappointment, and shoves past the small crowd that had gathered in hope of a fight, until he gets to the double doors and forces his whole body weight against them in order to get outside.

 

"I'm sorry," you utter to Harry, before turning on your heel and hurrying after Dean.

 

When you get outside, the crisp air bites at your face like a tiny animal. You squint to try and find where Dean has gotten to, but he's only leaning against the Impala, just a few metres away. A sigh of relief leaves your body, and you start making your way towards him. He drops his cigarette when he sees you, stamping it out with the heel of his combat boot. A saddened smile lingers over his mouth, after exhaling any leftover smoke.

 

"Dean, you don't have to be so –"

 

"Stupid? Embarrassing? Yeah, I know." His gruff voice interrupts you before you can finish.

 

A small spark of anger ignites inside of you. "Stop putting yourself down like that! You know I'd never, ever let anyone try and win me over... hell, they could try. But, I love _you!_ " The air falls silent again, and your breath clouds into the freezing night air.

 

Dean's head lifts from where he'd been staring at the ground. He inhales sharply, and then looks you in the eye whilst breathing back out. "I –" he begins, but seems unable to finish. He steps a little closer towards you, closing the empty space. His breath warms your neck, and now you can smell the concoction of cologne mixed with cigarette smoke.

 

"It's the truth," you whisper, your fingers toying with the zip on his leather jacket.

 

"I love you too, y'know." His tone grows shy, and his gaze flickers towards the floor.

 

You use your index finger to tilt his chin back upwards, forcing eye contact. A smile spreads across his face – a genuine look of happiness this time – and, then you take your chance and press a kiss to his cheek. As you're about to step away and get into the car, Dean grabs your hand to pull you back again. He leans down, pushing his lips against yours. Both of yours eyes flicker closed, and you become more involved in the romantic gesture, filling it with passion as your hands travel up his shirt. He flinches from the cold feeling, laughing against your mouth.

 

The pair of you stumble closer to the car, as Dean fumbles with the keys whilst trying to keep the other hand up your shirt. He manages to somehow unlock it eventually, opening the door behind him, and now he's falling into the backseat. You tumble on top of him, both of your eyes opening from the surprise. Your pupils are both equally as large, but you let your eyelids close once again, and begin to feel his hip bones against your own. It's often easy to get Dean under your spell, because he'll melt at the lightest touch as long as it's in the right place. You chuckle, leaning backwards and sitting up against him in order to slam the door shut behind you.

 

Now that you have a little more privacy, you fall back down again, and start to kiss his neck. After leaving your mark, you smirk. "See, now everyone will know that you're mine," your voice stays low, as you whisper against his ear.

 

Dean's eyes open again, meeting yours. You admire his glistening cheekbones, lit up in the moonlight that shines through the steamed up windows. His fingers loops around the straps of your shirt, whilst you begin to shrug off your jacket. He keeps eye contact locked with yours, and his eyes speak for him. You nod once, and in one swift move he swoops off the garment. Mirroring his actions, you tug off his jacket and pull his shirt over his head. You now have a lot more of a blank canvas to work with, and you move even lower, your mouth leaving perfect, pink parks all along his V-line.

 

He knows what's coming next, as you hook your own fingers around the belt loops in his trousers. A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, as you start to slowly pull them down. "You fuckin' tease," Dean grunts, knowing that you're trying to play him at his own game.

 

You laugh out loud, but then finally pull them all the way down. The heat inside of the car is insane, and there's no way anyone could be able to see through the windows by now. Before you complete the last step that's needed, you take one more glance up at Dean's face. Pressing one more kiss to his v-line, you're then ready.

 

____

 

 


	4. The Most Stubborn Hunter Around.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dean is being stubborn, when all he really needs is a hug.
> 
> \- for Haley.

_**To Haley,** _  
_**I hope you enjoy your oneshot!** _  
_**Love, Sam. Xx** _

____

 

 _**2nd November, 2005.** _  
_**12.34p.m.** _

 

  
The skies above are a shade of dull grey, and the clouds are blocking out any small chance of sunlight. Haley dodges the patches of rain on the sidewalk, making her way into the parking lot of Sunnyside Motel. She uses her elbow to push down the door handle to room 94, and uses her back to open it.

 

“How can you even see in here?” She scoffs, placing the groceries on a nearby table.

 

There's no reply, so she pulls open the curtains and gains a vampire like reaction from the guy in the hoodie. Haley places a hand upon her hip. “Dean,” she begins.

 

 _“Haley,”_ he mocks.

 

She rolls her eyes. “Where's Sam?” The girl asks – they've been hunting an usual death in the town for the past two days together.

 

“Interviewing some family of the victim,” he replies gruffly.

 

“Alone?” She smirks, leaning up against the wall.

 

Dean folds his arms over his chest. “Yeah, it's an easy job. He's twenty three,” the male snaps.

 

“Someone’s grumpy!” Haley sing-songs.

 

She walks over to where he's sat on the bed, leaning against the headrest. His hair is fluffy and unstyled, and his freckly nose is a light shade of red. “Mind if I sit?” Haley asks.

 

“You're gonna sit anyway,” he mutters, being proved right when she perches on the end of his bed.

 

“I got you coffee… but, I should've chosen tea.” She lies down, so that her head is next to his hipbone.

 

Dean ignores her comment, and exits on the side of the bed that she isn't lying beside. He picks up the takeaway cup from inside of the bag, and takes a long drink. After making a satisfied ‘ah’ noise, he turns to face the motel room door that's now opening.

 

“Sammy,” he beams, as his younger brother enters.

 

Sam closes the door behind him, and glances over to where Haley is still casually lying on her back. “Hey,” she greets simply, and he nods in her general direction.

 

“I think I know what we’re hunting. I think it's a solo vamp,” the boy explains. Dean’s coughing temporarily cuts his sentence short, but he carries on whilst his brother downs more caffeine into his system. “I'm gonna go looking for it tonight. You comin’?” He looks over at Haley, so Dean steps into his eyeline.

 

“Yeah, I am.” The elder sibling snaps back confidently.

 

Sam purses his lips. “I wasn't talking to you,” he retorts, stepping around the stubborn man and walking over to where Haley has just sat up.

 

“I'll be there,” she replies. “I'll leave you both to the argument that's about to happen! Knock for me when you need to,” the girl calls out, making a quick beeline for the door before she gets caught in the crossfire.

 

-

 

**_7.30p.m._ **

 

Three, rapid knocks sound at the door of Haley’s room. She gets up from the chair she had previously occupied, and grabs her duffel bag. Taking the gun out first, she wearily pulls the door open – you never know if someone has forced the brothers to use their secret knock.

 

But, sure enough Sam is standing there. He has an annoyed expression plastered over his face, and when the girl looks behind him to see Dean leant up against the impala with a smug smile worn over his face, she knows exactly why. “You lost the Rock Paper Scissors, again?” She chuckles, locking the door behind her.

 

“Shut up,” Sam mumbles, letting her lead the way to the car.

 

Sam drives, with Dean riding shotgun. But, the rules change when the big brother sits in the passenger seat, because _he_ gets to choose the music… as per usual. Haley has grown accustomed to his taste in tunes, and actually finds herself humming along the the Metallica song blasting loudly from the cassette tape.

 

“Just like I told ya, I'm fine Sammy!” Dean laughs out loud, singing along loudly to the music.

 

His little brother ignores him, and simply keeps his eye on the road. Haley leans forwards to attempt at making a song request, when Dean startles her with a sudden sneeze. “You are not fine,” she mutters to herself more than the two brothers, and leans back in her chair.

 

There's no time to argue who's fine and who's not now though, as Sam pulls up outside the rundown club that they're going hunting by. Apparently, he'd tracked the last known whereabouts to the storage locker nextdoor. The alleyway is deserted, and the only light shines down from the dodgily flashing sign, that reads ‘Lion’s D’ because the ‘e’ and the ‘n’ have broken. Of course, Dean chuckles childishly at this.

 

“Okay, we all going in?” Haley suggests, after they've carefully cased the outside.

 

Sam nods. “Be careful. Although it's alone, I feel like it's up for any fight… there's been no sign of a fresh kill since the first, so it must be hungry.” She nods.

 

On the count of three, Sam uses their bolt cutters and yanks the storage locker door upwards. It's pitch black inside, but Dean quickly finds the light. A buzzing noise fills the air, and a tiny yellow beam beats down on their surroundings. Nobody is here.

 

“Well, this is great,” Dean grumbles.

 

“Shh. Take a look around, and keep your wits about you!” Sam hisses through gritted teeth, still branding his machete before him.

 

Each of them split up to take a look around, because there's a door that leads out back. Sam heads through there, whilst Haley sneaks around, looking under furniture and in various boxes. “Seems like it's gone out for a snack,” she murmurs, throwing down a dusty cushion.

 

“Fuck!” A yell from in the alleyway immediately grabs her attention.

 

She pulls her knife out from her leather belt, and goes bounding out into the open. “Dean!” The hunter yells loudly, watching him gain a sharp hit to the nose, as his machete clatters to the sodden floor.

 

He hits back quite successfully, momentarily rendering the vamp in a daze. Grabbing his knife from the ground, Dean jumps up and strikes it against the neck. Haley runs over, and quickly finishes the job before it can lunge at Dean anymore. She pants heavily, and looks down at the bloodied blade.

 

“You're welcome,” her eyes roll, turning to look at a stunned and bleeding Winchester.

 

Seconds later, Sam comes tearing into the alleyway behind them both. “Jesus… what happened?!” He asks, lowering his blade when he sees the be-headed vampire lying on the floor.

 

“Nothing, we did our job.” Dean answers vaguely, pressing his fingertips to the warmth underneath his nose.

 

Sam raises an eyebrow, but starts to walk away. This leaves Dean and Haley alone for a few moments. “Are you –” her question is interrupted midway, as Dean goes a ghostly shade of pale… and, passes out.

 

-

 

**_9.05p.m._ **

 

“Mornin’ sunshine!” Haley’s voice echoes around Dean’s eardrums, as his hazy vision starts to work again.

 

He groans, trying to sit up but being stopped by two pairs of hands pushing him firmly back down again by his shoulders. “What happened?” His voice is hoarse and groggy, as he rubs his eyes in slow motion.

 

“You took a hit to the head, which apparently you decided not to mention.” The girl sasses back at him, and hands him a glass of water.

 

Dean sips it slowly, coughing a little bit afterwards. “How do you know?” He asks, squinting his eyes to look at her.

 

She laughs. “Oh, I don't know. It can't have had anything to do with the fact that you passed out on me,” Dean blushes.

 

“Sorry,” he apologises timidly.

 

“Sam’s gone out to grab some stuff. I said I'd stay here with you…” Haley trails off, getting something from out of her bag.

 

She shines a light in Dean’s eyes, causing him to close them and cower away. “Let me check you for signs of concussion,” she instructs, and he reluctantly obeys.

 

A sigh of relief tumbles from her mouth once she's done. “You're okay, I guess your body just went into shock.” She finalises.

 

“I don't _feel_ okay,” he grumbles, sniffing sadly.

 

“I thought you were fine?” Haley teases, using air quotes.

 

He doesn’t even argue back to her, partly because of a sneeze. “Poor, little Dean,” she giggles, taking a seat beside him.

 

Folding his arms, he turns away from her touch. “I'm fine,” he snaps. “I mean, uh,” he realises his contradiction against previous words, and Haley laughs harder.

 

“Sorry I teased you, I'm just kidding.” She shuffles closer, and he gives in and rests his head on her shoulder.

 

The fluffy strands of hair tickle against her cheek. “I forgive you,” he mumbles sleepily, winding his arms around her waist.

 

His eyes close, and Haley is about to continue the conversation, when she hears snoring. Shaking her head, she laughs. Dean is already asleep.

 

-

 

**_The end._ **

**_Part 2 coming soon..._ **

 


	5. Hogwarts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For valemoon, on twitter (idk your name, ahh).
> 
> Hope you all enjoy! Xx

 

 

____

 

 _**Saturday, February 5th,** _ _**1996.** _

_**8.30a.m.** _

 

Dean's winter boots crunch against the white, fluffy snow beneath them. He strides fast, in a hurry to meet someone. Usually, he'd be on his way to class by now – there's only one class on a Saturday morning, which isn't actually all too bad. It's just getting up early that sucks, for him. He gets closer to the building he was looking for, and sees a figure zooming towards him. _Finally._

 

"Cas!" He waves his arms in the air, stopping still in the snow.

 

The boy looks up, coming to an abrupt halt a few centimetres away from Dean's face. As the Winchester looks him up and down, a frown slowly appears on his face. Castiel looks unusually rushed, slightly resembling someone who may have been dragged through a hedge backwards. His hair is still styled as if he's only just rolled out of bed, his nose and his cheeks are tinted deeply pink, and his clothes are all ruffled and half buttoned up.

 

"I, uh... I overslept," he mutters.

 

"You what now?" The green eyed boy before him raises both eyebrows, surprise evident amongst his tone.

 

Cas huffs. "You heard," he snaps, beginning to hurry across the grounds in order to not be late.

 

"I know! But, you never oversleep!" Dean yells after him, breaking into a run in order to catch up.

 

They dart inside and hop onto the staircase before it takes a turn away from them, and Dean tugs Castiel's wrist so that they're facing each other once again. He fixes Cas' upturned collar, and pushes up his tie. Their eyes meet for a few seconds, Dean getting lost in the ocean like blue. "You okay?" He asks softly, studying the boy's pale complexion with worry laced throughout his gaze.

 

Those blue eyes turn away, looking down at his worn out sneakers instead of the forest inside of Dean's iris'. He nods, still staring downwards. Moments later, and the stairs have reached their desired destination. The pair hurry onto the corridor, minutes away from getting to their lesson just about on time. As Dean chases after Cas and dodges a gaggle of first years, he receives his wanted answer – Castiel doesn't seem to be okay at all, because all of the rushing has him wheezing and now doubled over coughing. Running over to his side, Dean comfortingly rubs his back.

 

"I'm fine," Cas stands back up again, anger glistening inside of his gaze and a childlike pout upon his face.

 

"I hate to say I told you so, but–" Dean jumps back as Cas' sneeze startles him quite badly. "I told you not to practice quidditch in that snow storm," the boy mumbles.

 

Castiel turns on his heel, making the sneakers squeak. He walks away from Dean, and gets into lesson before the boy can pester him any longer. Fortunately for Cas, his seat is near the back, whereas his rather annoying friend has been seated at the front. Their morning lesson is transfiguration, which flies by quite quickly because Cas has always been rather good at it. Professor doesn't usually let anyone leave their seats though, so Dean is left sneaking glances behind him in order to make sure that his friend is okay.

 

The second the lesson ends, Cas looks up to see Dean already waiting for him. He slides his books across the desk and into his leather satchel, then buckles it up in two swift movements. He pushes his spectacles up onto the top of his messy nest of hair, and raises one eyebrow at the boy opposite. "May I help you?" Castiel asks, sarcasm practically falling from his chapped lips.

 

Dean rolls his eyes. "Whether you like it or not, you're sick. I'm going to helpfully nurse you back to health!" The boy beams, taking Cas' satchel off of his shoulder and carrying it instead.

 

"But–" there's no time to protest, because Dean has already started jogging out of the classroom.

 

Cas grumbles to himself, and starts to follow. They make it onto the staircase just in time, and once again Novak finds himself short of breath. He leans against the banister, closing his eyes. Dean watches the way his long eyelashes frame his cheekbones, the flush against his cheeks making them look pink. "We should go back to my common room," he suggests.

 

Opening one eye, Castiel sees Dean looking at him with pure concern. He tries not to smile, but Dean is such a caring person – yet, nobody really sees this aspect of his personality. "Do I have a choice in the matters?" He asks, tilting his head so as to get a different angle to inspect Dean's freckles from.

 

The Winchester shakes his head, a grin appearing on his freckled face. The pair of students get off the staircase at the next floor, and head back outside again. There's small flakes of snow tumbling down from the sky as they exit, and a shiver engulfs Castiel the moment he feels the cold air wrap around him like an unwanted sheet of material. Dean notices this, and frowns. "You forgot your scarf!" He notes aloud, immediately unwinding his own.

 

Before Cas can even register what's happening, Dean is wrapping the Gryffindor house scarf around his exposed neck, and tucking it into his black trench coat. "I'd say you'll catch a cold, but... you know," a giggle falls from his mouth, and Castiel can't help but smile this time.

 

He follows Dean across the grounds, sticking close to him to try and avoid getting hit by any of the incoming snowballs from the pesky first years having fun. They finally arrive inside once they're nearing Dean's common room. It takes a few more flights of stairs to get there, but the warmth is stopping Cas' teeth chattering, which is good. Once they arrive at the door, the Winchester utters the password, and then quickly grabs Cas by the hand to pull him inside.

 

"I'll light the fire," he announces, not wasting anytime to use his magic to help his friend.

 

The flames appear in the fireplace almost instantly, before Cas has even had a chance to choose a place to sit. Dean rests his hands upon his shoulders, their height difference being a good advantage to lead Castiel towards an armchair. He snuggles up into the comfy cushions, closing his eyes already. Dean leaves him be for a while, sitting by the fire and reading a book. He won't bother Cas, but he'll stay and watch over him whilst he sleeps.

 

-

 

**_1 hour later..._ **

 

A quiet whimpering distracts Dean from the pages below him. The heat from the fire has turned his cheeks red, but he was so engrossed in reading (don't tell Sammy) that he'd barely noticed. He turns, looking towards the only plausible source of the sound. Sure enough, Cas is tossing and turning in the armchair, seemingly experiencing a nightmare of some sort.

 

Dean stands up, closing his book with the bookmark – a gift from his younger brother that he'd sworn he'd never need – marking his place. He carefully steps towards Cas, and receives quite a fright when the terrified Hufflepuff bolts upright in his chair. Stumbling backwards, Dean manages to quickly regain his balance and rush to Castiel's side. His blue eyes are pooling with tears, and he looks dazed as well as confused.

 

"It was just a nightmare, Cas. I'm here," he whispers, feeling Cas clutch onto his hand without realising.

 

After a few seconds of Dean rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand, Castiel's breathing returns back to normal, and his eyes advert towards Dean's. "S – sorry," he murmurs, his eyes flitting down to where they're hand holding.

 

He removes his death grip from Dean's palm, the both of them watching the colour return to the skin. "It's alright," the other boy smiles, his eyes still locked into the beautiful shade of blue.

 

Castiel sighs, attempting at breathing through his nose for a few moments, forgetting. Dean notices him shivering, and removes his coat. Next he unwinds the scarf, and then awkward realisation kicks in and he stops practically sitting on Cas' lap. But, as he stands, Cas looks sad. "Could y – you sit beside me?" His voice is hoarse from sleep, and slightly because of congestion.

 

Dean shrugs, because what's the worst that could happen? Cas shuffles to the side a little bit, but the armchair is easily big enough for two. He squishes himself beside the boy, and drapes an arm over his shoulder. "Like this?" He whispers.

 

Cas smiles, looking soft. "Like that," he nods, bumping his forehead against Dean's shoulder.

 

 

He sniffs quietly, still able to just about pick up the aroma of cologne that Dean always carries. Actually, he always smells great. With thoughts of his best friend and slight urges of wanting to kiss him, considering they're so close right now, Cas drifts safely back off to sleep again. In his dreams, he visits a place where Dean may like him too... because, maybe one day he'd like this to happen.

 

____

 


End file.
